For a Genius
by SirKriS
Summary: Mary sends Molly a marvelous video of her favourite celebrity *cough* Cumberbatch *cough* reading 'Genius' by R. Kelly and shameless fangirling ensues. What's more, Sherlock is under the mistaken impression that Molly is going on a date with a certain 'Ben' over the weekend and he won't tolerate it.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note****: So this started out as an impulsive one-shot on Tumblr then it turned to, well it's going to be a multi-chapter fic now (don't know how long yet). The whole thing was inspired by Cumberbatch's dramatic reading of 'Genius' by R. Kelly. This chapter is mostly in Molly's point of view.**

_**I do not own any characters I've written here**_

_**Nor do I own the lyrics to R. Kelly's 'Genius'**_

* * *

"Oh My—where did you find this?" Molly whispered over the phone. She was staring at a video link titled 'What a ladies man! Benedict Cumberbatch reads R. Kelly's Genius on live TV' that Mary had just sent her.

"Internet of course. I'm on maternity leave right now. My back hurts something horrid, my feet are larger than melons and John won't let me go anywhere. So I'm stuck surfing the web. I know you love the handsome devil's voice so I thought you might like it." Molly could hear the grin in Mary's voice.

"Of course I do! But does he really?"

"What, read the lyrics? Hell yeah. Honestly I'm surprised you didn't know about it. He did it last December. For a fan you don't stalk him very much."

"Oh who cares! I'm playing it right now," clicking on the video. She tapped her foot impatiently as she waited for Kimmel to finish introducing Ben.

**_Body so freaking soft, I can't wait to turn you on_**

Molly had to muffle her mouth to mute her screams.

_**You got me like la la la la la baby**_

She couldn't stop an unladylike snort from tumbling forth.

_**It's how you make me feel baby**_

"Oh God." she paused the video, bent over in laughter "I can't."

"No! You have to finish," Mary insisted.

"Alright, alright" she took a deep breath and resumed the video.

_**I can feel your body flowers,**_

_**While I'm kissing on your thighs**_

Something between a moan and a giggle tumbled out of her mouth. _This can't be real, this can't be real_ she kept repeating to herself.

_**You got me like la la la la la baby**_

_**Anticipation's so crazy,**_

_**I'll be good to you, promise**_

"My God he winked! He's absolutely seducing me right now," her legs felt like jello, and she might have been hyperventilating, just a bit.

"Breathe," Mary reminded. Molly nodded furiously even though she knew she couldn't see_._

_**While make good love to you, promise**_

_**Go to sleep and when we wake up**_

_**I'mma a hit that thing again, promise**_

Molly was fangirling like crazy, happily cheering with the audience in the video.

"Is it possible to be funny and sexy at the same time?" Molly asked as she tried to fan herself and wipe the tears from her eyes.

Mary laughed. "I don't know but Ben sure did."

"Wow," Molly sighed. "That was hilariously hot. I must be blushing like mad right now."

"Personally I loved the 'la la la' bit," Mary giggled. "I don't know how he could say that with a straight face."

"I know! But I would have to say 'kissing your thighs', oh he's _so_ welcome to kiss mine any day." Molly shivered as she recalled his voice.

"Are we talking about Ben or Sherlock now?" Mary teased. "I know you love him because their voices are so similar."

"Ugh if only. But Ben's a more realistic choice don't you think?"

"Safer bet huh?"

"Yupp," she said popping the 'p'. _Still, a girl can dream,_ she thought to herself.

"So do you want to come over and watch him read the letters live with Loo on telly this weekend? John will probably be running around with Sherlock so we'll have the place to ourselves."

"Oh will he be there this year?" she could feel her excitement building up again. "This Saturday right?"

" 'Course! So it's a date then?"

"Yes! Definitely a date." She looked at her watch. "Oh God I forgot! Sherlock texted me earlier saying he was coming down to see a body for Lestrade. He might be here already! We'll talk later yeah?"

"Fine by me. Bye."

Molly hung up the phone and straightened herself. Her face still felt a bit warm so she held her palms up to her face in an attempt to cool them down. _There's no point, Sherlock will know if he wants to_, she thought grimacing at the idea of him deducing her fangirl infatuation. She could only hope he won't be interested enough to comment. Molly then cleared her throat and walked out of her office; there she found Sherlock sitting by his usual microscope, staring intensely at his phone.

Sherlock looked up at her arrival.

"Ah, Molly. Did you get my text? I need a liver sample from Clarke Buckner. I have a solid theory the victim's liquor had been poisoning him over sometime. Quite ingenious if the murderer used the chemicals I suspect." Without waiting for a response, he resumed back to his phone, furiously texting someone.

Molly blinked at Sherlock.

"Okay." She turned away to grab a sample for him from the lab next door. Sherlock took the sample unceremoniously from her and focused on examining the slide for the next hour.

It seemed he wasn't going to say anything. Which was fine but—Molly thought he was acting abit odd. She could have _sworn_ his eye twitched when he was talking to her earlier. _Never seen that before_. She shrugged the feeling off though. _Maybe he was annoyed I took so long,_ she thought, going back to fill out her paperwork.

Sherlock was annoyed alright. No, he was positively _pissed to hell_ at Molly, and not because she took so long but _why_. He was willing everything in himself not to crush the focus dials on the microscope. But Molly didn't notice. In fact, she was blissfully humming to 'Genius' beside him.

* * *

**Author's Note****: I hope you liked it!**

**The next chapter will be in Sherlock's point of view…well most of it anyway.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note****: So this chapter is pretty much the 1****st**** chapter but in Sherlock's point of view. The story progresses a bit towards the end. It um, kind of got away from me as I wrote it so it's a bit…long. Or not, I don't know.  
**

**P.S. There are TONS of interjecting thoughts from Sherlock. I imagine his mind must do that a lot. I tried my best, hope it's not too confusing.**

_**I don't own any characters I've written here**_

_****__**Nor do I own the lyrics to R. Kelly's 'Genius'**_

* * *

Sherlock burst into the lab with his usual flair, not looking up from his phone as he shot out rapidly, "Molly-could-you-be-a-dear-and-bring-me-a-sample-of-Clarke-Buckner's-liver?-brilliant-murder-definitely-an-eight-and-I-would-rather-like-to-wrap-this-up-quickly-so-maybe-we-can-go-out-for-dinner…?" his last word pattered out when he realized he was talking to an empty room.

The evidence of a half-eaten sandwich in the bin—_she probably didn't like it_—led him to believe she had not gone out for lunch. He turned and noted that the door to her office was shut. Molly never closed her office door unless she was talking to someone on the phone so it was more than likely she was in her office right now.

Secretly glad he would have another chance to ask Molly out in a less rushed manner, Sherlock confidently strode up to her office and was about to open the door when he heard a muffled scream from behind the door.

He paused at the handle; at first he thought Molly was in danger, but her voice didn't indicate distress (he would know, he wrote up an analysis on the acoustic patterns of vocal emotion if anyone would _bother_ to check his website). Sherlock could hear another voice in the room—male, low and husky—and he couldn't quite pick out his words for Molly chose that moment to release a derisive snort. _Who is she talking to?_ he wondered, as he pushed his ear against the door.

_**It's how you make me feel, baby**_

Sherlock jerked back from the door in surprise as Molly fell into peals of laughter. He was miffed. _She's never laughed like that around me. _Suddenly he realized that someone, a _man that's not him_, was making his pathologist (yes, he referred to her with possessive pronouns in his head) laugh. The other voice was too loud to be from a phone call—_so an audio clip then_. S_he could just have him on speaker, _a voice rebutted in his head. _No_, Sherlock didn't want to acknowledge that possibility. And that voice! It was agonizingly familiar. In his furtive attempt to draw memories from his Mind Palace to identify it, Sherlock missed some of Molly and the stranger's words. He rushed forward to listen harder, and immediately regretted it.

_**I can feel your body flowers,**_

_**While I'm kissing on your thighs**_

Molly giggled out seductive moan. _Is that even possible?_ Sherlock didn't know if he should be turned on or be furious by the fact it wasn't direct at him.

_**You got me like la la la la la baby**_

_La-la-what?_ Sherlock wrinkled his nose in distaste. _Whoever this man is, he certainly is an utter buffoon._ He took some comfort in that. _But why is Molly fawning over him?_ Oh, how tempted he was to kick the door in and interrupt everything; but curiosity got the better of him, so he listened.

_**Anticipation's so crazy,**_

_**I'll be good to you, promise**_

'My God he winked! He's absolutely seducing me right now.'

Sherlock was livid. Someone was _seducing_ his Molly? His arms trembled slightly and had decided to open the door when the next words from that intolerable voice gave him pause.

_**While make good love to you, promise**_

He blanched.

_**Go to sleep and when we wake up**_

_**I'mma a hit that thing again, promise**_

Molly was squealing and cheering now.

'Is it possible to be funny and sexy at the same time?' Molly asked someone.

'Wow,' he heard her sigh. 'That was hilariously hot. I must be blushing like mad right now.' A low growl rumbled out of Sherlock's chest.

'I know! But I would have to say 'kissing your thighs', oh he's _so_ welcome to kiss mine any day.' He could hear a shiver in her voice. Sherlock shut his eyes, face contorted in pain.

By now Sherlock had figured out she was talking to someone (_Meena? Mary_? He filed the inquiry away to contemplate later) about an audio clip of a man—_video, a voice that resembled too much like Mycroft interjected. She did say 'he winked.'  
_

'Ugh if only. But Ben's a more realistic choice don't you think?'

_Ben? Is that his name?_ He knew no male acquaintance of hers by that name.

'Yupp' it was as if Molly was responding.

'Oh will he be there this year?' He could hear her excitement. 'This Saturday right?'

'Yes! Definitely a date.'

Sherlock deflated at her words. _She's going on a date? With the video man?_ Not if he could do anything about it.

'Oh God I forgot! Sherlock texted me earlier saying he was coming down to see a body for Lestrade.'

He straightened up. That was his cue to make scarce. Sherlock rushed over to the microscope and took to stare at his phone. His fingers were still trembling so he resorted to reciting pi backwards from the 175th decimal. Molly walked out of her office when he reached the 38th decimal. He silently prayed to a higher power he didn't believe in to let him look calm before he looked up.

"Ah, Molly. Did you get my text? I need a liver sample from Clarke Buckner. I have a solid theory the victim's liquor had been poisoning him over sometime. Quite ingenious if the murderer used the chemicals I suspect."

He quickly looked down at his phone _Shit, my eye twitched_. _Body's betraying me. _Sherlock rapidly sent a text to John.

'_Barts morgue. Urgent. –SH'_

"Okay," he heard Molly say. Sherlock didn't dare to look up again though. Jealously was eating him alive. He did manage to casually grab the slide from her to examine at it under the microscope—which he actually _wasn't_.

It was a painful hour. Sherlock couldn't bring himself to breach anything related to _Ben_ without alerting Molly to the fact he had been eavesdropping. She herself didn't seem to be bothered by the silence as she hummed some R&B song—_Wait, how do I know that? Oh_. John's taken to humming the tunes as Mary has been listening to them on replay at home apparently. _Nevermind that,_ he scolded himself. He needed to do something about this Ben person. _Where the devil is John?_

John chose that moment to burst in breathlessly."Sorry I took a while Sherlock, was getting the groceries for Mary. So what's urgent?"

Sherlock glared at the blonde man before him. He had a few choice swear words he wanted to expel at John for taking his _bloody_ time to get there. But he knew Molly would catch on that something was wrong. So he just rudely grabbed John's arm and dragged him out of the room. "No time, let's go" was his curt response.

"Wha-" John began.

"Oh hi—bye?" Molly finished uncertainly as the two men disappeared behind the door.

Sherlock managed to drag John halfway down the hallway before he resisted.

"Sherlock stop. What's going on?"

He swiveled to look back at him. "Has Molly mentioned ever mentioned a man by the name Ben to you before?"

John stared at Sherlock as if he had grown an extra head. _Where the hell is this coming from?_

"Stop gawking and answer me! Ben! Does that ring a bell anywhere?"

"No, it doesn't" John replied tersely as he adjusted his sleeve Sherlock had been ruffling earlier. "But what's that got to do with coming here?"

"I need you to get me a register of all the male employees at Barts."

"Why?"

"Because I need to find this _Ben _person that's trying to make a move on _my pathologist_" Sherlock practically hissed.

John snapped his head up so fast he almost pulled a muscle. "Sorry, _your_ pathologist?"

Apparently Sherlock hadn't caught on what he just revealed for he turned away to march deliberately towards John's office. John struggled to keep up behind him.

When they got to his office, Sherlock didn't even bother with John as he promptly sat behind his computer to access the hospital's records.

John stared down at Sherlock. _He dragged me here to help him keep some bloke away from Molly?_ John shook his head in disbelief. _Insufferable git._

Suddenly John's eyebrows furrowed in thought.

_Hang on, he said 'my pathologist' earlier right? Does that mean he likes Molly Hooper?_ A delighted grin spread across his face as he slowly backed out of the office, pulling out his phone.

_Oh, Mary's gonna love this!_


	3. Chapter 3

John wasn't sure how long it would take Sherlock to realize he had left so he wasted no time running to the nearest reception area to hastily call his wife.  
"Mary!" He shouted enthusiastically.

'I missed you too, but not so loud love.'

"Oh, sorry." John peaked around the corner to make sure Sherlock was still in the office.

"You won't believe what's just happened." John could barely contain his delight. "Sherlock's worked himself up trying to hunt down some Ben character. He thinks the poor bastard's after his pathologist. And before you ask, yes he actually said his pathologist!"

'Wait did, you say Ben?'

"Uh, yeah" he said slowly.

John thought she would be more excited about Sherlock's declaration. "Why, do you know him?"

Before he could hear her response John heard feet walking up the hallway. "Shit, he's coming. I'll tell you later."

"Joh—"

John hastily put his phone back in his jacket and looked up to find Sherlock eyeing him suspiciously. "Gossiping about me already?"

"Yes well…you have to admit the whole 'my pathologist' thing would be something to talk about." Sherlock just rolled his eyes.

"So," he began cheerfully, "you fancy Molly huh."

"Yes, what of it." he asked defensively.

John raised his eyebrows at his offhanded admittance. "Well, I never saw any indication of that before."

Sherlock sighed. "That's because as usual, you see but do not observe."

John rolled his eyes. _Why do I bother?_ "Did you find him?"

"No, I didn't," Sherlock said through gritted teeth. "No Benjamin, Bunsen, Bentley, Benedict—in case it was a nickname. There was a Bengt though, too old—and ridiculous name if I may add."

"Says the man named Sherlock," John mumbled.

"What was that?"

"Nothing. So how do you know about Ben?"

_Eavesdropped on her phone call of course_. Sherlock groaned at the memory. That idiot Ben had ruined everything.

It wasn't that he was just jealous. Sherlock had been planning to ask Molly out for quite some time now. It took weeks for him to succumb to the sentimental truth that wanted to pursue a romantic relationship with her.

To ensure she wasn't seeing anyone, Sherlock had been making a point to visit Bart's almost daily, loitering until the end of her shift to intimidate any besotted colleague that offered to walk her home. It was remarkable how she hasn't caught on yet. He'd even gone as far as breaking into a flat to make sure there were no signs of an unwanted male companion.

If Ben isn't from work then where did she have the chance to meet him?

_Did I miss something_? There was always something he missed.

And that infuriating video! The only remarkable thing about the voice was that its physical attributes were disturbingly similar to his. _I need a face to work with_.

"Sherlock."

_I tried to hack into Molly's email to access the video earlier but I couldn't get in_. Sherlock now regretted teaching her how to encrypt her accounts.

"Sherlock!"

Sherlock blinked at John.

"I said how do you know about Ben? Did Molly tell you?"

"No, I heard her talking over the phone John, do keep up."

"Sherlock, I don't read bloody minds!"

It took a few seconds for that to sink in.

"Oh." He hadn't realized he wasn't talking out loud.

"I heard her talking to someone over the phone in her office,—most likely female, a close friend—if she felt comfortable enough to gush over some unbearably cheesy video of a Ben seducing her" he spat out. "Do people even do that?"

"Um no, not usually," John said thoughtfully. "What did you hear him say?"

Without missing a beat Sherlock repeated Ben's words in a deadpan voice.

" 'Body so freaking hot, I can't wait to turn you on' "

John snorted so hard that Sherlock stopped to stare at him.

"Oh, you're not joking. Wow, sorry go on."

Cheeks coloring, he resumed his recitation. John did his best not to laugh, really he did; it helped that the words rang a bell somewhere so he tried to focus on why.

" 'I'mma hit that thing again' " Sherlock finished, not without wincing.

Definitely familiar. "Sherlock those are lyrics to a song. As in R&B-slow-love-making-song. I think Mary was playing that earlier today."

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Oh wonderful, so Ben's a perverted romantic." _God when I find him_, he thought darkly.

John asked. "Are you sure you're not just jumping to conclusions? Why can't you just ask her you know, like a normal person?"

"Because I would have to admit that I was eavesdropping on her." _And what if she prefers Ben?_ An insecure voice echoed in his head. "I believe that may hurt the chances of her agreeing to have dinner with me."

"Dinner." John grinned. "Like a date?"

"Of course a date must I—oh"

John looked up at him. "What?"

"MARY!"

Sherlock dashed to the nearest exit, a confused John in pursuit.

"Wait, what?"

"The friend! She was the one on the phone! She's the one setting Molly and Ben up." Sherlock quickly dialed Mary's phone, cursing when it went straight to voicemail. He was already sitting in a cab when John managed to get outside Barts.

"Hurry up John!" he hollered back to the man.

* * *

Mary hung up the phone before she fell into peals of uncontrollable laughter.

In his haste to put his phone away, John had forgotten to end the call. And in a moment of brilliance, Mary hit record and listened in on everything: the confession, the jealously, the recitation (that roused a fresh round of giggles), and the upcoming confrontation.

Now, she tapped on the phone thoughtfully, what to do about this development.

* * *

**Author's Note: Mary's bored and she won't let me end this yet *sigh***

**P.S: The name 'Bengt' [pronounced BENKT] is Swedish for Benedict. I've got Sherlock unknowingly hating on Ben's name haha**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Wow I never thought people would like this. Thank you SO MUCH for the reviews! They do wonders for my productivity and encourage me to keep writing.  
**

**Okay so here's the next chapter. Enjoy~**

* * *

Mary sat patiently in her living room, sipping a cup of cocoa as she waited for the storm that is her husband's best friend to barge in. He did not disappoint.

"Nice to see you too Sherlock." She gestured to the plate next to her. "Biscuit?"

"I will assume given your undeterred reaction to my and your barely veiled delight that you know why I'm here and what I would like to know."

Mary made sure to take a long sip before addressing him. "Ben is it?"

Sherlock fumed at the mention of the name. "Who is he, and why are you encouraging my pathologist to go on a date with him?"

" '_My pathologis_t'? " Mary looked towards an amused John who raised two thumbs up and mouthed 'I told you!'

Sherlock rolled his eyes at their exchange. "Yes, I'm sure John alerted you regarding that matter." He was getting irritated though. "Who. Is. He?"

"Well I don't know him _personally_, but Molly does love his work and has on more than one occasion voiced that she appreciates his…aesthetics." She couldn't help wagging her eyebrows suggestively.

Sherlock looked like he was going to bite his tongue off. _Oh this is so much fun_, she thought.

The consulting detective could also tell that she was deriving too much joy from the situation. "Cancel whatever arrangement you had for her this Saturday," he commanded testily.

Mary nodded. "Okay."

"And don't try to interfere with—what?"

"I said, okay. I won't encourage or interfere from now on."

Sherlock eyed her suspiciously. He hadn't expected her to comply. _Why was she giving in so easily?_

Mary just sat there innocently. "I'll even cancel their Saturday date."

John stood at a corner with his arms folded as he watched them. Mary was definitely up to something, but he wasn't going to say a word.

Sherlock gave up trying to deduce the reason out of Mary. "I will know if you try anything."

Mary frowned. "I wouldn't worry about me if I were you. Don't forget, Molly's free to see whomever she likes. If you want a chance then you better ask her out on that dinner soon."

He startled at that. "How did you—"

"You're not the only one who can eavesdrop," she winked.

Sherlock turned to give John an accusatory look.

"What are you looking at me for?" He clearly didn't know what part he had in this. Sherlock tugged John's jacket, ignoring the indignant cries as he pulled out his phone to look at the call history. He shoved the phone at John's face to see his treachery before turning to Mary.

"If you breathe a word of what you heard to Molly."

Mary snorted at that. "It's not like she would believe me anyway."

Sherlock blinked. He wasn't sure how he felt about that being true.

"Well?" Mary asked. "Run along now. Don't you have a case to work on?"

Sherlock didn't move a muscle. He was still trying to look for any indication that Mary was messing with him, but nothing was coming up.

"Or would you rather we talk about what I eavesdropped?" She threatened.

" ' _I can't wait to turn you on_' " in her most bedroom voice. Sherlock couldn't have run out of the room any faster.

John and Mary stared at each other before they burst into giggles.

"Are you pulling his leg about this Ben?"

"No, I assure you he's a real person."

"Then who is he?" he asked expectantly.

Mary pointed to the laptop on the table. "He heard us talking about that video of Benedict Cumberbatch and me inviting Molly over to watch a Hay Festival event of him on Saturday."

John went over to read the title of the video. "Oh _Genius_ is what you were playing last night right?"

"Yeah that's how I ended up finding that clip."

* * *

"So—" he had to pause to stop laughing. "—so Sherlock is jealous of a celebrity?"

Mary hummed as she bit into a biscuit.

"Why didn't you tell him?"

She just gave him a meaningful.

"You're planning something aren't you?"

"Planning? No, I gave my word to Sherlock." she said, looking solemn. " But planned?" She quirked up a mischievous smile. "Let's just say I might have set some things in motion before you stopped by. Well within my promise if I may say so myself. He can't give me grief about it later on."

John stared incredulously at Mary who just shrugged. "A lot can happen in 8 minutes."

"Why go through the trouble though? Sherlock was already going to ask Molly out," he asked as he reached over to grab a biscuit.

"Yes, then the clot backed out and went on a manhunt instead going asking her out straight up. I want him to face Molly, eventually." John gave her a pointed look. "And I might have been a little bored," she admitted. John still wasn't buying it. "_Okay_, and it might be a _tinsy_ bit fun messing with him." John smiled widely at her confession.

"So," he leaned in curiously, "what's the plan?"

* * *

11 minutes ago:

"Hey, Molly? About the reading, would you mind we change the plans up a bit?"

"Uh, yeah okay. What do you have in mind?" _She's not cancelling is she?_

"So, I know someone. And they can get us tickets to see Ben and Loo live at the Hay Festival." Molly's face lit up at her words.

"Would you be okay with that?"

"Yes!" Molly practically screamed. "Would you be able to come though?" she asked, remembering Mary's sore back and feet.

"Probably not, but don't worry I'll have fun watching the drama."

"Sorry, 'the drama' ?"

"On telly I mean. I wanted to catch up on one of my American shows anyway."

"Are you sure?"

"Aw don't fuss. I'll have John drop them off to you at Barts tomorrow."

"…"

"You can have fun for the both of us all right?"

"…okay."

"Great! Bye."

Mary hung up, feeling quite proud of herself. She dialed another number and waited for the other end to pick up.

"Hello, Jane? It's Mary. Listen, I think I can get you an audience with Sherlock for your case much sooner than I anticipated. Yes, he'd be delighted to take it on. I might need a favor though; you know those Letters Live tickets you have…"

* * *

**A/N: And that's it! For now at least. Mary's shown her cards (to me at least). 8 minutes is a short time to think up some mischief (that's how long their cab ride from Barts was). We'll see how thorough she was as events begin to unfold in the next chapter ;)**

**Thank you again for the reviews! They really make my day.**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: I'm sorry for taking so long to update this story. I made the mistake of letting a brilliant writer's suggestion to scrap the whole story to heart and had my writing confidence crushed to dust.**

**I think the other fics I started after this helped me get the courage to dust this chapter off and finally publish it. So here goes….**

***whispers* If it makes a difference, I made it twice as long.**

* * *

Molly stared at the phone in surprise. Mary had hung up so fast that she hadn't been able to ask for more details. It seemed that everyone was cutting her off today; but she couldn't bring herself to be irritated though, not with the unexpected but welcome opportunity to see her celebrity crush _live_! Molly continued to hum in delight for the rest of the afternoon.

On occasion she had wondered if Sherlock had solved his case. He never did return after his hasty exit with John. It wasn't unusual of him to act out, so she chose not to dwell on it and focus on her work. By the end of her shift she had labeled that day as the most delightful paperwork session she ever had.

She flexed her sore wrist as she walked to the locker room. She hadn't run into another soul on her way there. Once again, she was the last to leave for home. However, it was a small price to pay to have free weekends. She was shrugging off her white when she sensed another presence in the room.

"You really must feel no shame coming into the women's locker room." Molly turned around to smile at Sherlock, who stood shrouded in the darkness by the corner. Honestly, was he away just how histrionic he was? Probably not, Molly thought to herself.

"Why would I be ashamed about coming here? There's no one else here."

She raised her eyebrows at him. She was in a good enough mood to tease him and he was making it too easy. In her most scandalized voice, Molly asked.

"Unless you're trying to sneak a peek?"

It wasn't nearly as crass as her 'quite a lot of sex' and so half-expected a distasteful scoff or offensive comeback for her troubles. It was much to her surprise when he didn't respond at all, and appeared to be...well dumbfounded.

"Sherlock?"

She couldn't see his face clearly. The locker room was dimly lit, and he hadn't quite stepped away from the corner. She took a step forward to wave a hand in front of his face. He wasn't upset was he? There was no reason he would be upset. He was probably feeling awkward, she thought. Sherlock always did balk at the mention of intimate subjects.

"N-nothing. I wasn't paying attention."

_Did he just stutter?_ Molly mused as she peered closer towards him and was startled when he jumped back.

"Are you all right?" She was getting alarmed. He was blinking back at her furiously.

"Yeah I'm just...distracted."

_Okay_, she thought. Not quite the reaction she was expecting.

"So, why are you here?"

Her question seemed to jump-start something in him. "Oh right," he said, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "I uh-need to use your place as a bolt hole tonight."

Molly blinked up furiously at him.

"What?" He asked somewhat defensively.

"You've never asked my permission before."

He threw her confused look and was about to argue when she clarified. "Well you tend to just show up, you don't even knock."

"I do knock," he said slowly. He tried to sound confident but she could tell he was uncertain.

"The headboard doesn't count. Do you realize how _weird_ it is to be woken up like that?"

She folded her arms in an attempt to look annoyed. Sherlock looked slightly abashed for a moment before he huffed indignantly at her.

"Wait, you've never mentioned that before!"

"Yes, I have," she explained slowly. "But you never seem to do anything about it."

She leaned back on the lockers, eyes lit up with amusement as his reactions progressed from disbelief to fierce concentration, and finally to embarrassing realization.

"Oh."

Molly finally let out her grin. It was so much fun watching him think when he wasn't being rude. She turned back to her locker to gather her things and was surprised to find Sherlock still standing there. She had expected him to leave ahead of her.

"Did you need something else?"

"Of course not," he said rather harshly. Molly's smile faltered. Wow she had underestimated how much his words could influence her mood. She chalked his touchy words to whatever case was distracting him.

"Okay, let's go."

Despite the little mood stumble in the locker room, Molly was still relatively happy about her day. The unusually warm night distracted her to wonder whether there would be good weather on Saturday. She was in the middle of revising her planned outfit when Sherlock suddenly spoke up.

"You're in a good mood."

She looked up at him, surprised that he had spoken. _Shouldn't he working in his mind palace?_

"Well you've never walked me home before," she said, not willing to let him damper her excitement to see a celebrity. Celebrity fangirl was a secret indulgence she did not want near any of Sherlock's criticisms. No, it would be best to steer the conversation away from that.

"How is that a reason to be happy?"

He sounded doubtful but Molly wasn't prepared to let him burst her bubble, so she chose to improvise. She sighed dramatically and looked up at him with woeful eyes. "What can I say, I'm a deprived friend. "

Molly smiled widely when he scoffed at her theatrics. It turns out it wasn't difficult to avoid a topic with Sherlock. For good measure, she chose to latch on to ask about something she had vaguely been wondering about since the locker room.

"By the way, why are you doing this?" Molly peered up to look at him and was amused to find he was hiding half his face under his collars. _Does he normally do that?_

"Doing what?" he asked, glancing at her. She silently gestured between them and towards the road. He stared down at her as if she had grown another head.

"Obviously because we're heading to the same destination."

Molly rolled her eyes. "Like I said before, you don't usually ask if you want to drop by, let alone accompany me home." Several seconds passed by with no response from him. Puzzled, Molly turned to check if he was paying attention when he replied.

"It was…convenient."

She shook her head at his comment. Why was she even surprised? She supposed it made sense to the consulting detective. But would it hurt to say he was trying to be nice?

They continued to walk in comfortable silence after that, much to Molly's relief. Just when she thought he would drop the subject, he relented.

"You were somewhat elated about something earlier when I was at the lab as well. Should I also believe that was also thanks to my friendly company?"

She turned to look up at him in confusion. Okay, it was one thing for him to suspect something, but it wasn't Sherlock's style to act so roundabout.

"What?"he peaked over his collars. "I'm trying the conversation...thing."

Oh. _Oh_.

Molly cursed her luck. Of all the things he wanted to chat about, he chose to ask about the one thing she would be unwilling to talk about? She briefly considered throwing back his insults about her inadequate conversation skills when she realized he would see she was avoiding the subject. And so settled on telling the truth she was comfortable admitting.

"Mary and I set up a date to hang out at her place this Saturday. I guess I was kind of looking forward to it."

He stopped walking to stare at her. "With Mary, Mary Watson?"

She stared back at him with confusion. _Since when did he ask redundant questions?_

"Uh, yes?"

He progressed to examine her closely as if cross-examining her. She was sure he would see through her and braced herself for the embarrassing deduction when he said, "I'm assuming your plans got cancelled then?"

"What?"

"Your date. With Mary."

Okay, not what she had been expecting. Wait how does he know her plans got changed but not what they actually are? Molly chose not to push her luck and went along with it.

"Er-you can say that. She called later to say we couldn't do it together." After a few seconds of intense scrutiny Sherlock nodded in approval and they resumed their walk. While she was thankful for his misinterpretation, she couldn't help thinking at the back of her mind that he was being weird. He was known to make mistakes, but that was a serious blunder.

* * *

Sherlock never thought there would come a day where he literally wanted to smack himself in the face. Mary most certainly playing games with him. He had barely contained his surprise when she clarified whom her 'date' was. _Then what was the purpose of this Ben person?_ he wondered to himself. Sherlock noticed that Molly didn't bring him up. She was obviously embarrassed about something surrounding Ben. Was he a mutual friend she was interested in and Mary had been playing matchmaker? She could just be avoiding the subject to hide her disappointment for the plans falling out.

He could sense that something about his assumptions were clouding him from logically thinking through it, but he couldn't quite get his head around it. Whatever it was, it hung over like a cloud to his thinking. In fact, his head has been muddled all day thanks to that damned character.

John's annoying advice from earlier was playing through his head. _'Why don't you ask her, you know like a normal person?'_ He had meant to, back at the locker room, but then he over visualized he taunt and couldn't coherently think long enough to follow up. Instead he went on about needing to use her flat as a bolt hole.

_Bravo_, said a consciousness that sounded too much like his brother. The looming anonymity of Ben had been holding him back. He had always ridiculed it before, but the fear of rejection was a force to be reckoned with.

Normally he would have already deduced something disastrous about her potential suitor, but this time it was different. He had learned the hard way that when he did, she got upset with him; when he didn't, she almost got married to an idiot. Just the memory of the 'meat dagger' was enough to make him bristle.

So he faced a conundrum. He would either have to deduce something disastrous and have her shut him out or worse, meet and marry the idiotic Ben. Either way, he see how bringing up Ben would be beneficial to him in courting her. He was so lost in thought about it that he didn't realize when they had arrived at her doorstep.

"Are you still coming in?" Molly asked. He nodded distractedly and stepped into her flat.

Sentiment was irrational and inefficient, yet it was the reason he wanted to stay with her regardless of his mess. Mary knew that, and was exploiting it to make him pay for some righteous reason he couldn't fathom.

_'Don't forget, Molly's free to see whomever she likes. If you want a chance then you better ask her out on that dinner soon.'_

Now that he thought about it, Sherlock saw no problem with her advice. Asking her out would free him from whatever plan she has, or had for him. It was what he was going to do anyway;simple and efficient. He needed to stop making things complicated.

"I-think-I'm-hungry-fancy-some-dinner?"

He cursed himself for blurting it out so rapidly and was about to reiterate when she asked.

"Aren't you working on a case?"

That wasn't the reaction he was expecting. Why would she think it was a case? Oh, right. That's what he normally used her bolt hole for.

"No," Sherlock answered cautiously.

She stopped short by the door to gawk at him. "And you still came here?"

"Yes."

He could tell Molly was trying to figure him out. Personally he thought he was being quite obvious about it. If he didn't have a case then he would obviously be here to spend time with her.

"What, because you're hungry?"

He hesitated before responding. Technically it was true, so he nodded in agreement. "And I'd like your company" he added for good measure.

Molly stared at him for much longer than should have been necessary. At least, that's what Sherlock thought; otherwise he didn't know what to make of her reaction.

"Is this why you walked me home?" she asked with an irritation Sherlock didn't understand was there for. He nodded once more, not sure of what he was supposed to say next.

"Figures, " Molly mumbled as she walked indignantly out of the room, leaving a very confused Sherlock staring at her wake.

* * *

John and Mary were enjoying peaceful slumber when their respective dreams were interrupted by John's phone. He swore softly before digging further into his pillow, hoping to get back into his dream. Several texts punctured through their refuted attempts to sleep until Mary couldn't stand it anymore.

"John," she groaned, "check on your man-child,"

"I thought he was our man-child," he whined back.

"You're the one who didn't turn off the mobile baby monitor."

Two notifications later, he finally sat up and reached out to turn on the lamp beside him. John grumbled out threats as he squinted around to find his phone. It took a few moments to be able to read the screen, however by the time he was done reading, he wasn't so mad at being so rudely woken up anymore.

"Well you must be doing something right," he said grinning. "He's cursing at us."

Mary perked up from the sheets. "For what?"

"He accuses me of, I quote: 'carelessly complicating my plans to start a relationship with my pathologist.' "

"And what does he say about me?"

"He says you have manipulated him into a tedious mental warfare and demands an explanation tomorrow."

Mary chuckled at that. "Such a drama queen. He either didn't ask her out or didn't do it properly. The latter would be funnier though."

Another text arrived. "Bingo." John updated. "He says Molly mistook his attempt to ask her out as a manipulative power move to get her to feed him." Mary burst into a fit of laughter beside him. John shook his head at her delight.

"Wait, did you know he was going to botch it?"

"I didn't."she chuckled out. He eyed her suspiciously.

"Okay, " she relented "I counted on him being emotional for a while. Jealousy will deter him from thinking things through properly. Make sure you get every detail of how he did it when you see him tomorrow."

"I thought I had to give Molly the tickets."

Mary threw him an annoyed look. "Can't you multitask?"

"And if he finds out?"

"Then don't let him find out."

He gave her a disapproving look. "You know he's going to find out." Mary just shrugged at his dilemma.

"I thought you liked a little danger in your life" she winked.

He gave her an endearing kiss. "You're a terrible person."

"I love you too. Now please turn off your phone and go unplug the home phone. Your ladies need their beauty sleep and Sherlock needs to stew by himself."

* * *

**A/N: It's hard to tell but I think there are one-two chapters left. It's Wednesday night in the story so I can only delay the 'big day' for so long lol. Again, I'm really, _really_ sorry for the delay. Forgive me? *hands out virtual cookies***


End file.
